Agatha Christie The Hollow Chapter I At 6:13 a.m. ... - bzelbublive.info

Radley." His voice--a young, enthusiastic voice-- was quite awed.Veronica sniffed. "That funny snuffy old man?" "That funny snuffy old man,"John had said angrily, "has done some of the most valuable research work onPratfs disease--" She had interrupted: Who cared for Pratt's disease? California,she said, was an enchanting climate. And it was fun to see the world. She added: "Ishall hate it without you. I want you, John--I need you." And then he had putforward the, to Veronica, amazing suggestion that she should turn down theHollywood offer and marry him and settle down in London. She was amused andquite firm! She was going to Hollywood, and she loved John, and John must marryher and come, too. She had had no doubts of her beauty and of herpower. He had seen that there was only one thing to be done and he had done it.He had written to her breaking off the engagement. He had suffered a good deal,but he had had no doubts as to the wisdom of the course he had taken. He'd comeback to London and started work with Radley and a year later he had marriedGerda, who was as unlike Veronica in every way as it was possible to be. The dooropened and his secretary. Beryl Collier, came in. "You've still got Mrs. Forresterto see." He said shortly, "I know." "I thought you might have forgotten." Shecrossed the room and went out at the farther door. Christow's eyes followed hercalm withdrawal. A plain girl. Beryl, butdamned efficient. He'd had her six years. She never made a mistake, she was neverflurried or worried or hurried. She had black hair and a muddy complexion and adetermined chin. Through strong glasses, her clear grey eyes surveyed him and therest of the universe with the same dispassionate attention. He had wanted aplain secretary with no nonsense about her, and he had got a plain secretary withno nonsense about her, but sometimes, illogically, John Christow felt aggrieved!By all the rules of stage and fiction, Beryl should have been hopelessly devoted to heremployer. But he had always known that he cut no ice with Beryl. There was nodevotion, no self-abnegation--Beryl regarded him as a definitely fallible humanbeing. She remained unimpressed by his personality, uninfluenced by his charm. Hedoubted sometimes whether she even liked him. He had heard her once speaking to afriend on the telephone. "No," she had been saying, "I don't really think he ismuch more selfish than he was. Perhaps rather more thoughtless and inconsiderate."He had known that she was speaking of him, and for quite twenty-four hours he hadbeen annoyed about it! Although Gerda's indiscriminate enthusiasm irritated him.Beryl's cool appraisal irritated him too. In fact, he thought, nearly everythingirritates me. Something wrong there. Overwork? Perhaps--No, that was the excuse. This growing impatience, this irritable tiredness, it hadsome deeper significance. He thought. This won't do. I can't go on this way. What's thematter with me? If I could get away . . . There it was again--the blind idea rushingup to meet the formulated idea of escape. I want to go home . . . Damn it all, 404Harley Street was his home! And Mrs. Forrester was sitting in the waiting